


Somewhere In Between

by Silver_Evenstar



Series: Cullen Rutherford & Inara Trevelyan [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4089181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Evenstar/pseuds/Silver_Evenstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’d recognize him anywhere. Remembers him like it was yesterday. He’s different now of course, and despite of the millions of ways she had ever pictured him none of them seemed to do him justice now. Everything about him is different and there is a real chance that it’s not him at all. But that doesn’t stop her heart from trying to escape her chest as she does think of the very last time she had seen him. It had to be him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Twenty-One Years

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea came about while I was reading prompts on Tumblr (where most of my ideas seem to be growing from lately). It's not exactly the prompt but I starting writing and this little gem appeared. I'm not entirely happy with it, but it is certainly my favorite out of the MANY attempts at this final draft.
> 
> It WILL shift how Trevelyan and Cullen interact in the future, so don't expect me to recite gaming quotes word for word either lol. I was never fond of repeating something you've already seen anyways.

She’d recognize him anywhere. Remembers him like it was yesterday. He’s different now of course, and despite of the millions of ways she had ever pictured him none of them seemed to do him justice now. _Everything_ about him is different and there is a real chance that it’s not him at all. But that doesn’t stop her heart from trying to escape her chest as she does think of the very last time she had seen him. It _had_ to be him.

Blonde unruly curls and bright brown eager eyes; he had been tall for his age the last time she had seen him. It was _forever_ ago but he had never left her thoughts for long. The last time she had seen him, they had been lying beneath a tree in a meadow just outside of Honnleath. They had spent the whole morning dazed and staring up through the branches of large tree that sat directly in the middle of the field, with Drufflo and wind being the only sounds beyond the occasional words. It had been that day that Cullen had told her he wanted to become a Templar. The last day she had seen him he had told her of his future dreams and she had laughed carefree with him without knowing or caring that fate would twist them both.

Cullen had been a respite from all things dealing with her family. No matter how she tried she wasn’t fit for noble life like her brothers. She had known for as long as she could remember that she would be promised to the Chantry when she came of age, just as her brothers would become Templars themselves. She wasn’t ‘fit’ for marriage to a noble. She was far too independent, too far strong willed.

She had joked with Cullen, that if he became a Templar then who would sweep in and rescue her from the Chantry with promises of babies and marriage. She knew it wasn’t possible regardless—her mother would _never_ allow her to marry a commoner. As it was she was livid when she disappeared to spend the day with a farmer’s son, but it had been that joke that an adorable eight year old Cullen assured her that he would come for her. Promised in a tiny high and mighty voice that he would save her from her woes and had given her the only thing he currently had in his possession. A simple silver Ferelden coin, but that had not stopped her from tucking it away into her pocket with a smile before her eldest brother came to collect her as he always did.

That was the last time she had seen him. Days after something far more overwhelming than the Chantry or her noble blood decidedly ripped them apart. Her brothers later admitted that Cullen probably never knew what happened to her. To him their family just picked up and moved to Ostwick, a city where nobles belonged rather than some small famer’s village. The truth as always when it came to her was far more difficult—complicated.

Because the day Cullen Rutherford choose to become a Templar, was the same night Inara Trevelyan’s magic manifested.

 

* * *

 

“What’s this one then?” Cullen sighed roughly, glaring down at the paperwork in his hands as another one of Leliana’s scouts handed him yet another report.

“The report on the… Herald sir.” Cullen frowned, eyes scanning over the paper as he continued to trudge uphill towards Haven’s Chantry. He had barely gotten a good look at the girl—woman. With the rift hanging over their heads and demons continuing to fall from the sky he hadn’t even had time to get acquainted with her name. But it would take too long to read over this report, seeing as he was on his way to meet with the newly named ‘Herald of Andraste’ herself. She had been unconscious since her attempt to close the rift, though she had barely managed to seal the thing before she passed out.

“Give me the overview. Where did she come from, age, name…” He handed the report back to the scout, who floundered for a moment before scanning over the material himself.

“Let’s see. She came from Ostwick… the Cirlce apparently.” Cullen simply grunted at that. Of _course_ she would be a mage. The only person capable of closing the rift would be entirely too vulnerable to demon possession. The scout continued regardless. “She’s twenty-nine. Last name being Trevelyan…” Cullen halted at that. The scout bounced off his back and winced as he whirled around to face him. “Sorry sir… I didn’t mean—“

“What’s her name?” Cullen cut him off shortly. The last name was more than familiar to him—he could remember all the Trevelyans that had once lived in Honnleath. The girl with bright blue eyes and the dark chocolate brown hair that was always braided down her left shoulder…

“Trevelyan sir. Uhm…” The scout looked back to the paperwork, but Cullen ripped it from his grasp and let his eyes travel over the report once again. Twenty-nine, two brothers, family still were living in Ostwick. Given to the Circle at the age of seven… Cullen swallowed thickly. It had been hard on him, when the Trevelyans had disappeared from his life. He had friends amongst others in the village but Inara… he had been especially close with her. But she hadn’t been a mage—couldn’t have been—couldn’t _be_ one now. But as his eyes scanned over the document, the name came into view and his heart dropped. Abruptly he shoved the report back at the scout.

“This is incorrect information. Inara Trevelyan was _not_ a mage.” The scout gapped at him quite like a fish for a moment, but Cullen didn’t bother to wait for him. Instead he continued up the pathway to the Chantry. Rumor was the woman was awake and he could set Leliana correctly that this woman wasn’t the same girl he had grown up with. Although ‘grown up with’ was also a rather fine line. They had been friends for a grand total of three years. He had met her on his fifth birthday—had gotten him into all sorts of trouble that day too if he remembered correctly. Shoving the doors open to the Chantry, Cullen wasted no time to reach the war room. Inside both Leliana and Josephine were already in wait, but no sign of Cassandra or the Herald.

“Leliana I believe your report on the Herald is inaccurate.” The spymaster raised an eyebrow at him, but before she could say anything the door to the war room swung open once again. Cassandra entered first, followed by the Herald. Unlike on the battlefield of demons, Cullen took her in—really took her in. She wasn’t terribly tall; her nose perhaps reached his shoulders. She wasn’t overly thin either—lithe he supposed fit her. Like there was a natural grace to her and her body simply mimicked the notion. There was no sign of scars and her skin was pale—the life of the Circle never really gave mages much time in the sun.

“You’ve already met Commander Cullen.” The woman before him seemed to go rigid as her eyes landed on him. Bright blue eyes widening a fraction at his name, the long dark plaited hair that fell across her left shoulder… recognition seeming to fill her entire being as she stared right back at him.

“Maker’s breath…” Were the only words he could mutter in return.


	2. Two Sides of the Same Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Inara realizes that she may still be living in the past.

The first time they argue since their reunion is over the mages of Redcliffe, if one could consider their very short exchange an ‘argument’ that is. Of course their reunion wasn’t much of one either —she was needed in the Hinterlands and Cullen had to remain training the troops. Inara wasn't sure if she was happy about having a reprieve from suddenly falling into Cullen’s ‘lap’. She had spent years dreaming of meeting him again, but none of them had involved the Inquisition or a rift closing mark embedded in her hand.

But Inara fulfills the expectations to travel wherever the Inquisition needs her to. Finding and rescuing soldiers from the Fallow Mire while facing undead and Avvar, or trudging through the Storm Coast in search of signs of Grey Wardens. She purposely tries to forget the visit to Val Royeaux—there was nothing like being painted a heretic by the Chantry. She rather preferred keeping her head on her shoulders.

“ _There are going to be abominations amongst them._ We can’t very well just leave them to their own!”

“ _I had a choice to make and I made it. I certainly didn’t see any of_ you _there having to decide last minute about the fate of hundreds!”_

She hadn’t bothered waiting for a reply from any of them. She whirled on her heel and very well stormed out of the Chantry and beyond the walls of Haven itself. Inara of course knew better than to stalk off too far beyond the village, but she needed space—and Haven certainly didn’t give her any. Between the whispers and stares, Inara very much felt like a rare relic under study than she did a person. Everyone expected something from her—watched her like they expected something _miraculous_ to happen.

She couldn't bear the thought that she was bound to disappoint them--disappoint _him_. Given Cullen’s reaction to the mages she had a feeling that last thought was already likely.

In all her fantasies of seeing her once best friend he had never come across so... well so _Templar_ . While her Circle tended to be very sedate, Inara knew that Templars and mages very rarely saw eye to eye. The war between them before -- and sweet maker -- even _after_ the conclave spoke volumes.

"Planning on staying out here all night then?" Inara let out a huff and twisted on the ramp of the frozen lake to spy her eldest brother standing at end, eyes scanning the wood as if it might collapse if he dared set foot on it.

"Yes. Now go away." The words came out more like a grumble but Tye ignored them if he had indeed heard them. He stepped out carefully one foot at a time and Inara rolled her eyes at the obvious over dramatic look of concentration on his face.

No matter how annoying her brother was however she couldn't help but feel grateful for his presence. Neither of them had yet to hear if Alexander had survived and honestly she dreaded to even think otherwise. Besides Alexander would have hated to be fret over by his younger sister and older brother. He absolutely loathed being the middle child.

As it was Tye had landed in Haven before the conclave but ended up staying behind in the village with some of the younger recruits when it had literally blown up sky high. He had been so close to death and it irked her that she might never had known what happened to him. It was hard enough dealing with her worry over Alex.

After the disaster he had decided that it might be best to remain in Haven instead of following the few Templars left. Of course that meant technically he was no longer a Templar like Cullen, but he took to the ranks of the Inquisition easily. It wasn't a big surprise though, most things seemed to come to him like that. And then of course staying was ideal when he got word his sister was the 'Herald of Andraste'.

"I take it something went down in the war room? Did your Templar say something to get under your skin?"

Of course when he said things like that Inara had no idea how anyone could put up with him besides family. He had been ruthlessly teasing her since he had realized that the commander of the Inquisition's forces was the very same Cullen she snuck off with in Honnleath.

"No nothing happened in the war room." Technically this wasn't a lie. "And he's not _my_ Templar." He really wasn't.  There was the boy she remembered and the bloody Templar left in his place. He wasn't familiar to her in the least.

Tye snorted shortly as he finally reached her side and none to gently plopped down next to her on the pier. After a moment of strained silence Inara finally broke--far more quickly than she would like to admit.

"And just how do you know anything went badly hm?" She cast her older brother a sharp glare in hopes he would stop messing with her and Tye simply grinned at her like some innocent bystander.

"You mean besides the fact you practically fled Haven on a whirlwind? Or that Cullen is looking for you?" For a moment her jaw went slack at the idea Cullen was searching for her before she decided it was Inquisition business and certainly not for her own health. Instead she focused on the first response.

"I did not _flee_ ." She hissed at him, but he remained unaffected by her attitude. Tye waved his hand in the air as if he could bat away her denial. _She did not flee._

"You always ran for freedom whenever something got under your skin. Especially mother." Inara ground her teeth together to keep from rising to his bait. "Of course you used to _flee_ towards Cullen not away from him."

"Yes well that isn't the same Cullen I know." She bit off rather bitterly and after several beats of silence she glanced sideways at her brother to find him staring at her with an almost pensive look on his face. Which was ridiculous because she was fairly certain her brother didn't even know how to be serious. Ever.

"You know? Don't you mean you knew?" Inara opened her mouth to counter him, before she realized she had nothing to counter with. Tye let out a heavy sigh before reaching out towards her neck. Just beneath the collar of her tunic--just out of sight--he tugged on the chain that rested hidden. He lifted the chain upwards until the coin resting on it fell out into the open into his palm.

"Don't you think it's a little unfair?" Inara frowned, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. Unfair how? Cullen was who he was. He wasn't anyone she recognized. And now she was studiously ignoring both facts as best she could. Giving a gentle tug on the coin around her neck, her brother shook his head when he realized she had no intention of answering him. “Are you the exact same person you were before you entered the Circle?”

Inara blinked slowly at her brother as she tried to process the question. There was no easy answer to that question and he knew it. Yes she still _retreated_ to open space when she felt suffocated, but it she considered herself handling the whole ‘Herald’ situation fairly well—all things considered. And being a mage just accented who she was in her opinion. It never made up who she was because… well because she would have been a mage no matter who she was in the first place. Magic was as much of her as her personality.

“You’re not some seven year old girl anymore Inara. You don’t sneak away when mother insists you recite poetry or table etiquette. Cullen… I estimate he’s done his own fair share of changing. You can’t expect him to treat you like he did when you were kids.” Tye released her coin, allowing her to tuck it back into her tunic silently as she mulled over his words. He was right of course, but he was never going to let her hear the end of it if she admitted to it.

“You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about him right? I mean you kept his coin. And yes, I know it came from him. When we first moved away from Honnleath you barely ever put the thing down—and now you wear it all the time.” Inara winced and released a choked sigh that seemed to come up from her soul. “He was your last freedom before the Circle took you. That’s how you _still_ view him. As freedom.”

“Alright fine, you’re right. It’s completely unfair to him. It’s just hard to look at him and…” _And not see the only person she thought of daily outside her family for years._ Tye’s eyes lit up at her words and she frowned at him, poking him in the Templar armor he still had yet to shed. “Don’t get a big head just because I said you were right.”

“Never fear sister, I shall take it to my grave that you said I was right.” It was her turn to snort because he would undoubtedly tell the whole tavern in Haven as soon as they returned. The Herald had conceded to his view. “Perhaps you should get to know _this_ Cullen? Give him—“

“No.” The word came out before she could even really think about it. Flinching, she scrubbed her fingers over her face with a groan before she shook her head and pushed herself to her feet. “Maybe it’s just better to… to let it go period.” Her fingers found the coin under her tunic as she absently rubbed it for comfort. “Let him go.” The boy and the man in her dreams.

Tye eyed her for a second before rolling his eyes. “You’re so stubborn you know that right? Well whatever, it’s freezing out here. Care for an escort my lady?” He held out his arm in a chivalrously attempt as he stood, but she simply shoved his arm out of the way as she made her way across the broke wood of the pier.

“I’m not helping you across so you don’t fall through stupid.”

“Inara!” Her brother fairly whined as he picked his way across the pier after her.


	3. Repetition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen finds the strength to put an end to the repeating phases in his life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo Cullen might be a bit OOC in this one. I'm not entirely sure to be honest, because as much as he tries, he often ends up being reminded of his past throughout... well both DA2 and DAI.
> 
> However after this point they'll get to actually interact rather than circle each other and I'm looking forward to writing that finally whoo! 
> 
> And a beautiful shoutout to everyone who's commented, left a kudos, or just stopped by! It's always so wonderful to hear feedback, even if it's just to say hi!

He knows loss far more than he most people would believe of him. Between the Ferelden Circle and Kirkwall he thought he knew what it meant. He had forgotten--or perhaps blocked it out on purpose the first time he had lost someone. It was a different kind of loss, no death or disease had taken them. Their disappearance had left a different kind of hole in his chest. One that ate at him because he hadn't understood at the time what that loss meant.

Observing Tye tending to his injured brother, watching the distant slope the Inquisition had just trudged down in escape once they had finally came to a rest however, reminded him that he may have lost the same person twice.

Cullen had felt the familiar twinge back in Haven's Chantry. Something deep in his gut that told him he shouldn't have left her behind. At the time it had been easy enough to reason with, given how many people depended on them both to get them to safety.

Now however... there was nothing to do but wait.  And he hated it with every fiber of his being. He wasn't someone who did _nothing_. It meant time to overthink and most of the time that lead to thinking about his past. The nightmares that tried to eat his soul, choices he was looking to atone for. He couldn’t think about where this attack left the Inquisition because without the mark attached to Inara’s hand; well he was pretty sure it was dead in the water with...

Inara's sudden reappearance in his life gave him other memories to stew over for once. The twinge in his gut set into full blown worry over a woman he didn't really know. Not anymore.

But he could remember clear as day now the last time he felt such worry. When the rumors murmured throughout Honnleath told him that the Trevelyans had disappeared practically overnight. People speculating all sorts of horrors as to what happened.

Inara wouldn't have left without saying goodbye.  He remembered being so sure of it... but perhaps that hadn't changed. She remained silent when he had questioned-- _What of your own escape?_

There had been no goodbyes. The first time left him feeling utterly _alone_. He had been unjustly angry with her. Leaving without a word, wasn't he at least worthy of one? It took years really to fully understand that she probably wasn't even allowed the choice. She had been _seven,_ and while she was always so very good at escaping, her mother had probably ensured there was no such ruckus as they fled Honnleath.  

He had missed her too strongly the first time was his conclusion. Inara was a noble and she would have been ripped away from their friendship eventually. Her bright eyed eagerness to meet him under a tree to simply lull the day away, it wouldn't have lasted.

Now... now he has no idea who she is. Was. Should have been. But he feels it nonetheless. A loneliness creeping into his chest--the echo of a very old wound. He should have said _something_. A closure to at least one of the losses in his life. This is just another regret to atone for in the future. Assuming he has one.

Part of him had been afraid to get to know her again. She had been someone who knew him long before the Blight, the Circle, or Kirkwall. He barely kept in contact with his own family, but Inara represented something outside of family. When they were kids, she never had to put up with him because they shared a room. Or because his father said so. She had been a choice despite the fact that he would get a tongue lashing for slacking on his chores any day he disappeared to do anything--or nothing--with her. She was the quiet in his chaotic family.

To make that _choice_ again--to even be able to have the choice to make--had flipped his sense of direction upside down. Being the commander wasn’t an easy job, but it was easy enough to hide away beneath professionalism. Some days were just easier than others. It was harder when she returned with a contingent of rebel mages without the protection of Templars. Harder when she described in specific detail just what she had seen in the future, when it was obvious to even a stranger that whatever had happened in that Maker forbidden future was eating at her regardless how she denied it.

And he wouldn’t know the details now. He should have apologized for his outburst, or at least tried to explain what had made him so upset. Even as just the ‘Herald’ she had the right to know, to have respect. Save for the fact she had been studiously avoiding him since the slighted exchange. They had spent days in the war room preparing for this very event, and he could never quite catch her alone. Cullen knew her well enough from their past that she was doing it on purpose. Because some things never changed.

“Well let’s never do that again shall we?” It’s Dorian’s voice, and as he lets go the things he should have done, he realizes only three figures are appearing from the storm buffeting the far side of the mountain top. None of them are particularly feminine either. The Herald is not with them and the knot of worry that’s been a stone in his stomach begins to shift into something heavier. Scrambling to his feet, Cullen meets the three that followed Inara into battle with a dragon of all things just as Leliana, Josephine, and Inara’s older brother descend upon them as well.

Dorian looks mostly ruffled, though there are spots of blood across his armor that he’s already glaring down at as if the simple act would make them vanish. Iron Bull has several gashes across his torso and blood running down the left side of temple--nothing a healer couldn’t fix if he’d let them. Varric just looked plain exhausted and downtrodden.

“She’s not with them.” The boy with the ridiculously large hat seemingly popped into existance out of nowhere and Cullen clenches his teeth to keep himself in check. There wasn’t much time for speculation about who--or what-- the boy was, not at moment. He had showed up at the gates of Haven just before the Red Templars had arrived, quite literally dragging Inara’s second brother with him. He had been injured during escape from Therinfal Redoubt after refusing to take a new sort of lyrium, and Inara hadn’t thought twice to let them both in.

All at once six voices began barking out questions. Distress, worry, panic all laced together making the words unintelligible, but his voice remained silent. The rest of Inara’s oddball inner circle began to converge on them as well, but he remained a statue. His fingers clenched tightly into fists. The storm raging on the other side of the mountain screamed that it was ripping away any chance she had to return even if the landslide had not buried in a tomb with Haven.

This was a loss Cullen was all too familiar with in recent years. He can’t breathe, and suddenly it’s not just the temperature outside that’s leaving him cold. The loneliness that had sunk into his heart with repressed memories bleeds out with ‘what ifs’ and for a moment he feels overwhelmed with despair. No goodbyes. They never said goodbye.

“No.”

It doesn’t just surprise him, but everyone around him, because his voice lifts over the others practically bellowing above them to be heard. But it is _his_ voice, and Cullen has never been more relieved that it has come out strong, unlike the wavering pain in his chest.

“We look for her now. Before the storm buries anything left.” For a moment he can feel their collective eyes on him, but he ignores them in favor of signaling the nearest soldiers he can find. He’s not going to repeat this particular mistake between them. He’s going to find her and bring her back--a thought that rings of old childish promises in a meadow. But he doesn’t have time to think about them now.

“I’m coming with you.” Cullen pulls his gaze away from the mountain top to Inara’s brother. He’s several years older than him, but Cullen knows exactly how Inara would feel if he let him come with. Shaking his head, he motions over his shoulder at his brother… her brother.

“She’ll never forgive you if you left him alone right now. You take care of your brother. I will find her.” He wants to argue. Cullen can see it, but after several moments his shoulders sag in defeat before trudging back to his brother’s side without another word.

Turning to face the mountain, Cullen drew a deep breath. For a moment he wanted nothing more than to have her phylactery. A kind becon to guide him to her, something to tell him that she was even alive, the first time he had ever thought of using a phylactery in that sort of sense. The idea was foreign, but he didn’t have it and there wasn’t time to dwell. Not anymore.

 


End file.
